How would you define the project. There seems to be many symbols here. One is of course a stone… Another is the number of stones. As the Memorial tries to find some way of touching both the scale and individual aspect of the crime, your project also has those two elements.
To condense the project; I have made an individual ceramic 'stone' for each detainee of the Auschwitz camps, totalling 1.3 million pieces/people. I am exhibiting the pieces to imitate a railway line, with two separate lengths of 'stones' dividing 1.1 million pieces (for those who died at Auschwitz) and 200,000 pieces. I made each object out of clay. This is because of the historic significance of the material alongside its metaphorical symbolism. In its raw state, clay is very malleable and receptive to human touch. It can record the finest gestures and details such as fingerprints. When the clay is fired in a kiln, it becomes hard as stone; making those details permanent and near unbreakable. I feel like the material itself speaks well of humanity, memory and legacy: it is intrinsically linked to ideas of preciousness, fragility, reverence and permanence, which I embrace. Making each of the 1.3 million pieces by hand was a way to indicate individualised attention and care. Regarding scale; that was always an important aspect for the work because of the camps themselves: their physical size as well as the broad and recurring effects of the crimes committed there.
Can you write a bit about the work-in-progress phase. A daily life of an artist who has an enormous task - creating of 1,3 million ceramic stones and then firing them in a kiln…
Creating the work became a kind of lifestyle for me. I confirmed the completion date of the project from the beginning. This is because I chose to produce the work in the exact timeframe that mass killing was carried out in the Auschwitz camps (from the first mass gassing of Auschwitz prisoners to the liberation of the camps: 1,242 days). Having established the completion date, I set myself a weekly quota of 10,000 pieces a week, which very much became part of my routine. I found this difficult both mentally and physically. Ultimately though, beyond the pain, the process was meditative and constructive... even transformative for me as a person and as an artist.
You dedicated a few years of your life to this project. Is it appropriate to say that the visit at the Memorial was a changing moment for you?
Yes, I feel that the Auschwitz site profoundly affected my life. It changed my perspective on many things as did meeting Holocaust survivors throughout the project. In particular, I see those sites as examples of the polarising extremes we are capable of: horror beyond comprehension and our capacity for cruelty as well as our resilience and capacity for love and survival.
What do you think is the message coming from the story of Auschwitz for you and for people nowadays?
To remain vigilant against injustice, prejudice and hatred wherever it rises and whenever it occurs. Atrocities continue across the globe despite the lessons and tragedy of the Holocaust. The fact that it happened within lived experience is unsettling. I also created the work out of concern for the few remaining first-hand survivors. I'm interested in what the responsibilities are, and I believe they are global, in representing such history beyond direct lived experience.
Deathgate can be seen at the moment in Australia at The Goods Shed in Toowoomba.